


white lillies

by AjaysLullaby



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25440964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AjaysLullaby/pseuds/AjaysLullaby
Summary: A companion piece to black irises.Revenant is old. Old and tired and completely fed up with the world's shit. He cares about nothing. Until Ajay Che comes along. Then...then he finds something.
Relationships: Lifeline | Ajay Che/Revenant
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	white lillies

He was angered at first. He took it out on her even, brutal deaths and mocking words sprung from his hands and voice processor like green flowers in spring. She didn't care. He  _ hated _ that. It got to him, her lack of fear. Made him rage like a summer storm at sea. 

It also drew him to her, like a fruit fly to honey. 

He stalked her, watched her every move. Listened when she spoke, snarled and sliced when they fought. She never backed down. It was  _ infuriating  _ to him. Intoxicating and fresh. He had never really come across anyone like her. 

The rest either cowered in fear or simply ignored him. She pushed back. He craved it as much as he detested it, in the start.

She was so thoroughly  _ human _ . Yet she could shed that like cloth and become as vicious and terrible as him in the ring. Part of him admired it; but a quieter and more hidden part envied her. Mostly he was curious.

So he gave in, because he had always been a curious sort.

—

She was glaring at him again. He glared back, staring down at the defiant five foot three woman in front of him. Octane hollered in the background, and he knew had he been made of flesh, his eye would have twitched. The man was a pest at the best of times, and why he had  _ listened _ to the damn medic and gotten the fool up, he really didn't know.

She had been  _ right _ , of course. Winning the fight was easier three on two, and the clown did make for suitable distraction.

"Why do you vex me so, skinbag? Are you not afraid of the shadows?" He growled, eyes dangerously close to turning red. 

She laughed and shifted, mouth opening to speak. But something unusual happened. Instead of speaking, she went tense and launched herself forward at him, shoulder hitting metal hard, pushing them both back behind the rock, and on to the ground. The fleshbag let out a gasp as they hit the sand, and he wished he could scowl. He  _ hated _ cleaning sand out from his body. It got everywhere and there was always so much of it.

"What the - get the hell off me skinsuit!"

She groaned and rolled to the side, off of him, a small hand pressed to her hip, where he could see blood leaking out. She...took a shot? For  _ him _ ? He was confused, angry.

She huffed and responded, "Next time yuh could say thank ya, jackass."

All he could do was growl back at her, mind trying to process what had happened. No one cared enough to try to avoid him being damaged, let alone take a shot for him. She shifted around slowly. He pushed himself to his knees, positioning himself above her. He started to open fire on the sniper - Wraith - while she got to patching herself up. 

He wasn't sure why he was still here, silently observing her between the shots taken. He could have just left her, pushed by himself. Yet he sat and waited, watching the fool that was their teammate run around and try to push what looked to be a duo, by himself. 

He took a shot that hit the only visible member now, Wraith, while Octane fought what looked like Mirage. The two laid into each other, and one clown knocked the other. By that point the medic had shimmed around and started to fire on Wraith, while their teammate launched himself off a jump pad and right into the last enemy.

She let out a harsh sigh, and spoke to him. "We gotta push, Rev, it's now or never."

He nodded once, sharp and decisive, and grabbed the back of her shirt, hauling her up as he stood. She coughed and choked a bit, and if he could have smirked, he would. A bit of revenge for that damn nickname she used - and she was the  _ only _ one to use it. Had to get your kicks from  _ somewhere _ . 

Once he was sure she was steady, he bounded forward, jumping over the rock in front of them and throwing a silence orb in front of him. Their clown of a teammate went down with a shout as the two approached the fight, and if he had had eyes, he would have rolled them.  _ Typical _ . 

"Fuck, Rev ya gotta push up, I'll flank around! It's jus' her, we can do this."

"Hurry your ass up, medic," he said, eyes focused on the fight ahead of them, watching as Octane was finished.

He scaled the wall, tossing himself over the side and rolling to avoid the shots sent his way. The fleshsuit had a grim, determined look on her face, mouth set into a firm line. 

She never screamed or begged. It annoyed him, when he finished her. She sat there with a dead look in her eyes and just  _ waited _ . He  _ hated _ apathy. He always made sure he finished her slow, just so he could enjoy it that much more. He'd break her one day. 

For now he opened fire, pinning her in place. They were stuck at a stalemate, each unable to gain the advantage at the moment. He wasn't worried though, the medic was...resourceful and quite capable in her own right. Said medic was currently coming up behind the voidwalker, vicious smile playing out on her face as she took the fleshbag down.

**"We have our champions!"** The announcement rang out in the air, the sound of gunfire replaced by the roaring sea and the medics insufferable optimism. 

"Aye now dat was a good win, yeah?" She said, smirking at him. "Yuh owed me a kill. Fairs fair tin can." She cocked a hip, head tilted to the side, just  _ daring _ him to say something. 

He just snarled, tossing his gun down and walking away. She was infuriating in a way no other could be.

—

Later, much later, he was skulking through the ship, careful to keep to the shadows as he did. He mindlessly wandered, feet taking him to the medbay without much thought 

She was laid back against her pillows, the bed angled so she could partially sit up. There was a pad in her hands, casting a soft blue glow over her as she flicked through different screens. She looked incredibly bored.

He couldn't resist the urge to say so, "You look bored, skinsuit."

She didn't startle like he had hoped, instead glancing up at him, slowly and without much emotion.

"That's cause I am." She cocked an eyebrow at him in a silent question.

He scoffed, hunching over as he stepped out of the shadows. Most of the rooms weren't meant for seven foot tall robots. The hallways and open spaces worked, but placed like the medbay just had it in for him.

"You could have just let me take the bullet, medic." He tilted his head to the side, much like a curious cat.

She let out a soft laugh, and motioned for him to come closer. He pondered on whether or not to indulge her.

"Ya were my teammate, I'm not gun' let you jus' get shot like that." She sounded so sure of herself, so little care for her own well being. He still couldn't fathom how she put any value into his life.

He stalked forward, towering over her. She didn't look scared though. Her breath hitched as she sat up straighter, and her face tightened the slightest bit before relaxing. He assumed it was the wound she had taken for him, not quite fully healed.

"Yet you're content with taking the bullet for me, thus incapacitating yourself and potentially risking the win." He didn't  _ question _ , but simply stated a fact.

"Ya good at killing. I trusted yuh that if I went down, yuh could handle it." It was matter of fact, a very direct answer.

He hummed, "So I'm just a killing machine to you?" He didn't actually think that, but he was curious as to her response. 

She shook her head, "Nuh, jus' that ya good at it. I know there's more ta ya than that. Yuh jus' dun let anyone see it." She stated it firmly, conviction in her eyes.

He hummed in thought, leaning closer to her, eyes focused on her intently. "Why are you so insistent on getting to know me,  _ Che _ ?" He rarely used names, but here he felt like it was warranted. He wanted to  _ see  _ the effect it would have on her. And he wasn't disappointed. She took a quiet, but shuddering breath, eyes dilating a small bit as she focused on him. 

"Because I'm curious about ya. How many times do I gotta tell yuh?" She stared defiantly into his eyes, leaning forward into his space. Even when hurt, thrown off, and dare he say  _ aroused _ in some way, she pushed back. It was maddening. He wasn't to be outdone, though.

He reached up and grasped her by the back of her head, metal digits threading through loose hair. He made sure not to hold too tight, he wanted her focus on his actions and words, not pain. Swiftly, he used his grip to pull her forward, her cheek brushing his metal one.

Lowly, he spoke into her ear, "Careful, Che, when you play with monsters." 

She let out a little breath, and spoke back. "I gave up mosta my humanity joinin' these games. I'm not scared to lose, Revenant."

He chuckled, liking the way she said his name. It was breathy but with an edge. "You should be more afraid of winning, medic."

And with that he released her, stepping back in to the shadows and fading away. He watched her for a few seconds, a small hand lifting to brush her cheek, wonder and attraction mixed in her eyes.

He turned and left, leaving her with the thoughts in her head and the pad on her lap.

—

He couldn't help but to single her out from then on, whenever they were on opposing sides and he spotted her.

This time was no different. He hunted her, herded her, forced her in to one of the many old, crumbling houses located on the island. She ran in, trying to buy time. He wouldn't allow it, chasing her down and facing her as she backed herself into a corner.

The fight was brief, her shields already broken and her health low. She tried, violently cursing and shooting back at him, but it was fruitless. He downed her with a single fire to the leg, watching impassively as she fell to the ground, holding her wound. She wouldn't have to worry about that for much longer.

She was beautiful in a way, he noticed, the sun highlighting her skin in warm tones, reflecting in her eyes. Even covered in blood and dirt, clothes torn, she was beautiful. He wanted to rip her apart for even  _ thinking _ that about her.

"Yuh tired of playin' witcha food, Rev?" She asked, curiosity free on her face.

He grunted, coming back to himself as she spoke, and took his hemlock off single fire. He put two bursts into her and watched as her gear dropped, body recalled to the respawn technology on the dropship.

He tried to focus on the fights, mowing through people and finishing them violently, but the way her eyes had glowed with the sun stuck in his mind, distracting him the entire time.

—

It took him months. Of her trying to gain his affections, of his  _ attention _ , to give in. He had vowed to himself that he wouldn't do it, but he couldn't help himself. She was independent, soft but firm somehow, kind despite the viciousness she showed inside the ring. He was lost to the way she laughed, how she snarled back at him and offered no resistance when he invaded her personal space. She insulted right back, but yet somehow laughed the words he spat off with a grin and a wave.

He didn't  _ like _ caring about someone again. It was…disgusting, really. The way he felt. Yet, it was  _ real _ . Unlike the programmed lives he had lived, the fake partners he'd had. It was all  _ himself, _ something  _ he  _ had decided on, not designed and coded by some labcoat wearing flesh bag.

So he let himself  _ feel _ and  _ pursue  _ and  _ yearn.  _ It was intoxicating. He revelled in it, and finally allowed himself to let go.

—

She was standing still, staring out a window of the Overlook while she leaned on the railing, a cup of coffee in her hand. Her hair was puffed out, curly and pulled back away from her face. The faint starlight gave a soft halo effect around her hair, making it glow pink.

"I can feel you thinking from over here. Stop it," he said, looming halfway out of the shadows of the wall.

She turned to him, eyes lidded, filled with expectation. "Yuh make me think. Can't help it yuh know?"

He snorted. "I've done nothing to warrant such contemplation."

"Was exactly ya lack of action that's makin' me think so much." She hummed and set her coffee down on the railing, moving toward him.

He stepped forward, toward her, the light from the surrounding stars casting soft shadows around his feet. "And what have I not done?"

She stopped in front of him, and slowly reached up. "Somethin' like this."

He was unsure, but made no move to stop her, letting her hands slowly move and make contact with his face plates. She stood on her tippy toes and pulled him down. He went without resistance, interested as to what she was going to do.

She paused, and spoke to him quietly. "If yuh want me ta stop yuh just let me know, ya hear me?"

He grunted in response, wanting her to get on with it. He sat in contemplation, eyes focused on her, and her alone.

She slowly brought their faces together, flesh cheek pressed to metal. He couldn't really  _ feel,  _ not in the most physical sense. Sure, he could feel  _ pain _ , and  _ pressure _ , but that was the extent. Still, he could imagine, based on all the false life experiences he had had. How her skin might have felt, soft and warm against his metal face, the strength of her slim fingers resting on him.

She sighed and with nary a word, turned her head slightly and pressed full lips to the corner of his metal mouth. It was only a few seconds but he treasured it. He didn't push her away, entranced by the freedom of movement she was expressing. 

She pulled back a few inches, hand sliding down his neck and on to his shoulder, resting softly.

She sighed softly and stepped closer, carefully resting her head on his plated chest. He carefully, so she wouldn't notice quite yet, moved an arm to lightly curl around her waist, hunching in just the tiniest bit further.

"Yuh just gun' turn ta a statue? If yuh dun like it I can back off ya know?" She said, glancing up at him. She seemed concerned, and her body tensed as she tried to step back. Yet she was stuck in his embrace as he stared down at her, mind running like a rabbit in a field.

"Che," he started, voice heavy, full of something implacable, "Why do you  _ insist _ so damn hard that I am worth your affections? Why do you even assume I could ever  _ feel _ for a skinsuit?"

She laughed and rested her head again upon his chest. He felt…content, satisfied by the action.

"Cause ya were like me, yuh still are even with a body made o' metal an' oil. Ya feel, ya hurt, ya  _ mourn _ . For all tha rage ya put into tha world, I could alway tell there was more to it. I didn't know if yuh would be interested in a human still but I had ta try. Yuh just…capture my attention in ways no other could. Maybe part of it's that ya not totally human. Maybe part of it is that you act so wild. I dun want ta change ya. I  _ like _ tha wild an' the danger an' the slightly less-than-human."

His arm curled around her tighter, pulling her in more. He pushed his face into her hair and growled low, forcing himself to speak of things he would usually hide.

"You vex me so, Che. You speak of the  _ humanity _ in me and yet you say that my lack of it draws you in. You don't want to change me yet you already have." He let out a very human sounding sigh of frustration, the rabbit frantically trying to outpace the dog of emotions he felt.

"An' how've I changed ya? I barely done anythin'." He voice was curious, eyes gazing at him in a way that showed he had her full and undivided attention. 

He snarled quietly, sick of the emotional outpouring but unable to avoid it. 

"I have never felt more at peace than I have right now, since discovering what Hammond did to me. Twenty five years. And a tiny little fleshbag with no self preservation instincts makes me feel this way. It's ridiculous."

He could see her surprise. Openimg up to her - he hadn't really  _ planned _ to, but her he was, doing it anyway. Revenant was suddenly glad he couldn't flush like humans now. It was easier to hide embarrassment.

"Years of revenge and killing, and in a matter of months you make me want to just stand still. It's infuriating. " He carefully moved a claw tipped hand to brush her cheek, almost tender. 

She was speechless, staring up at him wide eyed.

"Now who's turned to a statue?" He let out a rough chuckle, shaking his head.

"I jus'...Thank you for sharin' wit me. I'm glad I can give ya somethin' different," she said quietly.

He could see she was struggling, searching for something to say. Finally, it seemed like she settled on it.

"I wan' ya, in whateva way yuh decide to give me. I dun' expect ya to throw ya games fuh me, I certainly won't. I jus' wan' you an' nothin' more."

He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers, one arm curled around her, the other hand cradling the back of her head gently. It was quiet, peaceful. It was something he hadn't experienced in  _ years _ and he wanted to cherish every single moment. 

He knew she was a weakness now, she was a  _ liability  _ to him. Regardless of the fact she could take care of herself, she was his to protect. He hadn't had something to protect in a very long time.

—

After that, she always kept her door open for him. He would show up at all hours of the day, silently stalking through the shadows and sliding out of them in her presence. Sometimes he simply watched her sleep, other times he woke her. They spoke occasionally. At first it was just her. She talked of meaningless things. Of her day, of whatever asinine thing Octane had done. He just listened.

Eventually it got deeper, and he started responding. First it was small things. Commenting on this or that. The way she cared for her drone, or how she put up with the fools antics. After a bit it was her thoughts on anything and everything; her guilt and fears. Her regrets, her hopes, her dreams, her worries. The places she had been, the people she had helped. He gave in return. Told her of the worlds he had been to, the lives he lived for the almost three hundred years he had been alive. Of the scum he had killed, of the wonder at the lives that had never been real and how he would never truly know which life had been his.

Other times they spent in pure, blissful silence. He enjoyed it as much as he enjoyed their talking. It was peaceful. He felt like he could actually rest. No stress, no looking over his shoulder. Just them and the quiet.

More and more often he went to her for repairs. It started as places he couldn't reach, and evolved into anything from major work to minor scratches. She never complained. Simply smiled and laughed, patting her bed and making space for him. She would even sew up his headscarf and loincloth when it got torn in the messy fighting.

In turn he brought her gifts. It would be things she talked of liking or wanting or needing and having trouble getting. He never brought them when she was around, always making sure to deposit them on her bed when she was out and about. 

It was almost  _ nice _ in a way, the give and return. It made him feel more human, the normalcy of exchange that happened between them.

He watched her now, face turned to the stars, lit by their soft glow as she stood in thought beside him. She was enchanting, hair in a loose bun atop her head.

He reached out and slowly turned her head to face him, speaking to her.

"You think too much."

"An' yuh dun' think enough," she responded, grin on her face.

He grunted and shook his head, hand sliding down her neck and pulling her in close.

"What has you so far away? Aren't you supposed to be focusing on me?" He would never admit that he was pouting at the lack of attention, but it was definitely a thing.

She hummed, "I was thinkin' bout us."

She leaned in to him, fingers playing with the cloth of his hood.

"Us?" He questioned lowly, staring at her in question.

"Yeah,  _ us _ . We've become somethin'. It jus' make me happy."

He prodded her verbally, sarcasm dripping from his words. "I don't know how whatever we have makes you  _ happy _ , but by all means fleshsuit."

She laughed and pulled away, sticking her tongue out. 

"Hey, yuh were human once. Cantcha make an exception fuh me? Can't even call me Che now?" She said, a mock-pout on her face.

He sighed and shook his head, "You continue to confound me."

She smiled at that. "Good, then I'm doin' it right."

He growled, but it wasn't threatening. She just smiled wider and reached out, grabbing his hand. She pulled him toward the bench, backing up as she did. The back of her knees eventually hit metal and she sat without looking.

He stood before her, looming over her once again. He stared down at her, metaphorical eyebrow raised.

"And what am I supposed to do?"

"Well usually people sit, ya know?"

"Meh."

Yet he still stalked over and sat next to her, hand still holding hers.

"Lemme look at ya, wanna make sure I got everything from before."

He sat up straighter and faced away, exposing his back, where she had been patching him up before.

She released his hand, and he moved to straddling the bench, leaning forward some. He thought about their last conversation. It had been about her recent regrets pertaining to her life. The choices she had made. She never specifically mentioned the games, but the way she spoke about them often left him contemplating it. 

"You know…I could get you out of the games, if you wanted."

She paused her work, asking for clarification. "'Scuse me?"

He turned to face her.

"If you wanted out of these games. If you were tired of it. I could get you out." He had thought the first statement would have been explanation enough. He wasn't fond of repeating himself, but he would for her. He could see the destruction happening slowly inside her. She talked about shedding her humanity in the ring - and to an extent it was true. Yet, he could see the toll it took on her. How sometimes she'd wake in the middle of the night grasping for a gun, a cry on her lips. How she'd not always recognize him and snarl ferally. He had grown fond of her softness. He didn't want to see it erased, drowned out by the beast inside her, as much as he admired the beast itself.

"I-what makes ya think I could want out?" She seemed confused and stunned, brown eyes wide as she looked at him.

"You sound it, sometimes. Like you've lost your way."

"I regret. Wish I had taken a different path. But I'm here now an' there ain't nuthin' to be done bout it. I still have  _ you _ . I still have myself," she said, voice soft.

He wished so desperatelyhe could frown, shake her and scream. Instead, all he said was "Ajay."

She stared.

"You are going to destroy yourself if you keep on like this. The moment you start to want out, I'll give you out."

"Then what happens to yuh? To us? Yuh jus' leave me behind, go back to the mindless killin' an' tha rage? I'm  _ not _ givin' us up. I worked too damn hard for it."

He wanted to rage at her. Did the woman not give a lick of care about herself? She was  _ important.  _ Could she not see that?

"Damn it all Ajay, I'm trying to show I care for you! You deserve better!" He growled out, clawed hands finding their way to either side of her face.

One of her own came of to cover his, and she spoke softly. "I know yuh care. Yuh don't have to point it out or make it that obvious. But I dun' want ta leave ya behind. I refuse ta."

He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers, "You  _ will _ be the death of me, Ajay Che. I just hope you won't be the death of yourself." He knew without a doubt. She was his only weakness, and one day he worried someone would use her to get to him. It was almost inevitable with the way his life had gone. 

There would come a day where he would finally die, and not wake up. And he just prayed that when the day came, she would accept it. That she wouldn't be  _ a part  _ of it. That she wouldn't be used against him. He wanted to finally rest, yes. But not at the cost of the only damn thing he cared about now.

He would tear the world apart at her behest. Murder anyone who did her wrong, if she but asked him to. He had chosen her, accepted her. He would do everything in his power to help and protect her. She was  _ his. _


End file.
